


Black Tides

by ministryofsillywalks



Category: 30 Seconds to Mars
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Pillaging, Pirate Cove, Pirates, Sailing, royal navy - Freeform, seven seas, treasure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-03-30 12:33:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3936889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ministryofsillywalks/pseuds/ministryofsillywalks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Georgina's town by the sea is attacked by pirates, they take her prisoner aboard their ship. After meeting the ship's strangely fascinating captain, she faces the choice of returning to her quiet life on land or sailing the seven seas as an outlaw with England's greatest criminals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Departure

White sails on the horizon were a beautiful sight to behold. They brought good news, stories of wild adventures, and, most importantly, they brought loved ones home. The men of the Royal Navy were respected and regarded as the defenders of the seven seas, and when their grand ships weighed anchor in the harbor, the town rejoiced.

 

Today was one of those days. A single ship with sails like billowing clouds glided from the horizon towards land. Georgina Tippet watched from her usual post atop a bridge just off the harbor as the sails grew ever larger. She'd waited a month for this day, the day her betrothed would return to her. Every day since he left she'd stood on that bridge, the cool ocean breeze blowing through her dark brown locks, and pray for sails.

 

Georgina ran from the bridge, down the road and around the bend, and straight out to the end of the longest pier. The ship was close enough now that she would be able to make out its details; the colors, the flag, even the name painted on its hull.

 

But as she watched, she realized that everything about this ship was wrong. Instead of painted brown and green, this ship was completely black. There were no words painted on its side. And instead of the flag of a Navy ship, a Jolly Roger whipped in the wind. Pirates.

 

Her heart gave a painful lurch. How could there be pirates in these waters? Where was the Navy's fleet?

 

Georgina wasn't the only one who'd noticed the ship. There were others on the pier behind her speaking in panicked whispers. Women ran to protect their children. Men hurried out of the harbor, either to get home to their families or to find arms to defend their town, though everyone knew all the guns in the world wouldn't be enough to ward off the devils of the sea.

 

A boat was lowered down to the water below the ship, filled with as many pirates as it could hold. They'd already rowed halfway to shore by the time Georgina got a grip on herself and hurried back toward town. Men were lining the docks, guns at the ready. The ship was moving closer, as well. Far closer than usual for ships that size. They weren't planning on weighing anchor. They were planning on firing the cannons.

 

Georgina ducked inside the Oakwood Tavern just as the first boom echoed through the streets. She peered out the dusty window to see a single cannonball reduce a pier to splinters. The men that had been standing on it were now floating in the water, dead.

 

Tears filled Georgina's eyes as she crouched down behind the bar beside the barmaid and several patrons, most of whom were too drunk to realize what was happening outside but not drunk enough to be entirely oblivious. The barmaid, Lila, didn't look the least bit afraid. She dealt with the hands and words of men every day. She could probably take on the pirate captain himself single-handedly.

 

"Here." She held out a broken bottle of rum. "Just in case."

 

Georgina took the bottle with a shaky hand and gripped it tightly by the neck. A gunshot made Georgina jump and nearly shatter the glass in her palm. Then came another. And another. Then the shouting started. The pirates had come ashore.

 

The walls of the tavern muffled the sound only a little. It was evident that the commotion was encroaching on the town, toward the shops and houses and terrified women and their children. There couldn't possibly be that many pirates for them to have made it this far. The boat looked like it held no more than ten or eleven. Had they sent another? Did they possess weapons that were unmatched in battle?

 

No. They sounded like guns and swords. Nothing special. And they were right outside.

 

One of them shattered the front window, letting all the noises in. Now Georgina could hear bones cracking and blood spilling. It was sickening. She'd heard of such attacks from her fiancé, Jonathan, but never imagined she'd be able to face it herself.

 

"How many d'you think are hidin' back there?" came a weasly voice from the other side of the bar. One of the pirates, no doubt.

 

"Ten shillings says there's three men and a barmaid," answered a young boy's voice.

 

"Sorry, love, you're on your own," Lila whispered to Georgina and crawled out the back door just as the shooting started. Spots of light shone through the holes in the bar left by the bullets. Georgina pressed herself flat on the floor and covered her head with her arms. The men beside her all made a run for it, though they all stumbled and tripped, offering themselves as easy targets for the attackers. One of them fell right beside Georgina, his dead eyes staring at her, fear still freshly burning in them. She couldn't take it. She scrambled back against the bar, away from the corpse, and kicked at him in an effort to turn his face away. In her desperation, she hadn't noticed that the shooting had stopped. She held her breath and listened. Silence.

 

"Oh, you'll do nicely, pet." Georgina whipped her head around at the scratchy voice. There stood one of them, towering over her in his tattered coat and boots. He was tall and lanky, his face unwashed and unshaven. He was hideous.

 

She held up her broken glass weapon and shuffled backwards as fast as she could.

 

"Stay back!" she ordered. The pirate merely chuckled.

 

"You think a bit of glass is gonna help you, deary?" he taunted as he stepped closer to her. She continued moving herself backwards along the floor, backing herself right into a pair of strong legs.

 

"Cap' will like this one," came a burly voice from above her. But before she could look up or scramble away again, there was a sudden sharp pain to the side of her head and everything went dark.

 

***

 

She was swimming in blackness. Dark grey clouds swirled in and out of her hindered vision. There was something soft beneath her, but it felt unsteady. For a moment, she thought she was at home. Maybe she'd been left for dead, found, and carried back to her own bed above her father's shop. It was a comforting notion, but instead of the smell of hot coals and clangs of rock against metal, there was a certain odor she couldn't place. It was musty, but dry. And a touch wooden. The dull throbbing in her right temple made her dizzy. She focused on that pain. It meant she was alive, but her actual state was another question she didn't exactly want the answer to.

 

Georgina kept her eyes shut tight. She knew she wasn't safe in her own bed at home. This was another place. As she slowly regained consciousness, it became evident that the room was actually rocking. It wasn't just in her head. There were sounds of men's voices shouting. And was that a wave crashing? Was she on a boat?

 

She sat upright, immediately regretting it. The sudden change of position made her head throb in more than one spot. She pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers and slowly blinked her eyes open.

 

It was dark, wherever she was. She was indeed sitting on a bed, one much smaller than her own. The sheets smelled old and stale, like they'd never been washed. This was most definitely a man's bed.

 

The rest of the room was rather small. Beside the bed stood a desk with all sorts of maps strewn across it. An unlit lantern served as a paperweight. A chest with a substantial lock hanging from it sat in the corner beside the narrow set of steps leading up to the door and probably to the deck of the ship.

 

There was a sudden collective "whoah!" from the men outside, then the deafening crash of whitewater against wood. The ship gave a lurch to one side, nearly knocking Georgina off the bed. There was a loud thud against the door. One of them must have been swept into it by the water. They were right there, right outside, and they'd probably forgotten all about her. Maybe she could use that to her advantage and somehow sneak off the ship. If only she could man one of the lifeboats alone. There had to be another way. Maybe they weren't that far from shore. Maybe she could swim, provided the water wasn't too cold.

 

Before she could make up her mind, there were more voices outside the door. The waters had seemed to calm and the ship was almost entirely still.

 

"That was odd," said a weasly voice that she recognized from the tavern. "Smallest storm I ever seen."

 

"Consider yourself lucky if you ever see one again, Rat," came another voice. This one was new. It didn't sound deep or scratchy or evil. It was a perfectly normal, almost kind sort of voice, even though it was scolding.

 

The door opened and Georgina laid herself flat on the mattress and closed her eyes as several sets of footsteps crowded into the tiny space.

 

"Still out cold," said Rat.

 

"Obviously," the new voice replied. They sounded as if they were standing right over her. Georgina tried desperately not to move a single muscle. "You're on cleaning duty for the rest of the week."

 

"But, Cap-"

 

"Don't argue with me, Rat. You brought a woman aboard. It's no wonder we were almost killed. They're bad luck, I've told you that."

 

"I beg your pardon," said a boy's voice, another familiar from the tavern.

 

"Oh, shut it, Stella, you know what I mean." Stella. So it wasn't a boy after all. There was another lady on board. Well, lady might have been too grandiose a term for the way this one spoke. Perhaps wench was more fitting. But Georgina didn't dare open her eyes even the tiniest crack to take a look.

 

"What d'you want to do with her?" Stella asked.

 

"Nothing," the apparent captain replied. "We'll dump her at the next port."

 

"Such a gentleman," Stella said.

 

"You want to go all the way back to Greenford and drop her on her father's doorstep?"

 

"Rat, would you excuse us a moment?"

 

Georgina heard nothing for a moment, then one set of footsteps leaving the room and the door closing.

 

"What?" the captain said with an indignant tone.

 

"I was one of those ladies once. Or have you forgotten?" Stella said.

 

"That's hardly the point," the captain replied.

 

"Keep her with us. She'll be good for washing dishes and cooking."

 

"And add another belly to feed? Look at her. She probably hasn't worked a day in her life." Georgina felt herself growing red. Hopefully it wasn't noticeable in the dim light.

 

"She'll learn. I did."

 

"You didn't have a choice."

 

"Neither does she!"

 

What did that mean? Was she to be stuck on this ship the rest of her life? Would she ever see her home again? Or Jonathan?

 

"Stella, she's useless."

 

"She-"

 

"I don't want to hear another word about it," he snapped. "It's two weeks till the Gold Coast. We'll leave her there."

 

There was silence again, but Georgina's own heart pounding in her chest was deafening. She was to be left in Africa? What would they do with her for the next two weeks? Why was she even here?

 

"Just keep the men away from her," Stella retorted. "I'll not have a single one of them disrespect a lady on this ship, do you understand?"

 

"You have my word."

 

"Good." And with that, she stormed out, leaving Georgina alone in the tiny cabin with the captain.

 

There was a long moment where he must have just been standing there before he finally moved to pull out his desk chair and sit down. Georgina wished he'd just leave and let her sleep for the entire journey. She didn't want to speak to a single one of them, not even Stella.

 

"I know you're awake." His voice was lower, calmer. Georgina's heart pounded even harder, but she didn't move. "You snore. You're not snoring now. Open your

eyes."

 

She couldn't very well start snoring now. He couldn't be that stupid. So she was left with no other choice. Slowly, she opened her eyes, keeping her gaze fixed on the door beside the foot of the bed. There was no way she'd make it out that door before he could grab her. Perhaps he had something sharp on his desk she could use if it came to it.

 

She pushed herself upright and looked at the man sitting beside her. She'd been expecting an old, one-eyed, peg-legged pirate with missing teeth, but what she saw was a pair of dark eyes staring at her from beneath a thick brow. His hair was tied back and he wore a pair of diamond studs that could only have been stolen from a grand estate somewhere. Georgina found herself transfixed. The lazy way he slouched in his chair, leaning one elbow against his desk, drove her mad, but she couldn't look away.

 

"How are you feeling?" he asked, though he really didn't seem to care. Georgina didn't answer him. She fixed her gaze into a hard glare and remained quiet.

 

"Alright, then," he said, and stood. "There's food in the galley. Eat or starve, it's your choice." And then he left.

 

Georgina sat there in stunned silence. What on earth had just happened? Why hadn't she answered, created some sort of civility? She knew if she behaved like a child she'd be treated like one. That's how it was everywhere, land or sea. All she wanted was to go home, but that wasn't going to happen any time soon. She was among pirates, now. From what Jonathan had told her, anyone would be better off dead than aboard a ship flying the Jolly Roger. But somehow Georgina doubted that she was in any real danger. After all, the captain had given his word that no harm would come to her. She wanted to find Stella. She'd been a lady, possibly of nobility. If anyone could be of help to her, it would be the only other woman on the ship.

 

Georgina slid to the edge of the bed and stood slowly. Her legs and back were stiff. She wondered how long she'd been unconscious. Possibly days, judging by how dry her throat was. She needed water. She hobbled up the four steps to the door and pushed it open before stepping out onto the deck.


	2. Havoc

The first thing to hit Georgina upon stepping out onto the deck was the icy chill of the ocean wind. It didn't help that she was only wearing one of her simpler dresses, with loose sleeves that ended at the elbow and a flowing skirt that let all the cold right at her legs, despite the fact that it hung to the floor. Her skin instantly bristled with goosebumps, but she clenched her teeth and walked on.  
  
She was near the stern of the ship, up on the quarter deck, so she had a good view of the rest of the rig. The captain was at the helm just in front of her. Georgina moved quietly to the port side and grabbed ahold of the thick wooden railing that separated the higher deck from the water as the ship rolled with the waves. A few others worked down on the main deck, adjusting ropes and sails to take advantage of the strong wind that whipped Georgina's skirt against her legs. No one seemed to notice she was there. Good. She could take a few minutes to situate herself aboard her new prison.  
  
"Another storm ahead, captain!!" came a slightly panicked shout from somewhere above her. She looked up through the countless sails to see Stella perched in the crow's nest, coming in and out of view as the sails billowed. The captain pulled a small compass from his pocket and watched the needle spin, then tucked it away again. He turned the wheel several times to the left and Georgina nearly fell over from the sudden change of direction.  
  
"Are you trying to kill me, Leto?!" Stella yelled from up above. She was hanging halfway out of the crow's nest with an unsteady grip.  
  
"Change of plans!" he shouted back at her. Stella was indeed very high up, but the eye roll she gave the captain was clearly visible, even from that distance.  
  
"Are we not going to Africa, then?" Georgina finally spoke up.  
  
"No," the captain replied without so much as a glance. Had he known she was there the whole time?  
  
"Back to Greenford, then?"  
  
"No," he repeated.  
  
"Where, then?" Georgina demanded.  
  
"Stella, get down here!" he shouted into the sails.  
  
For a moment, Georgina thought Stella must have jumped from the crow's nest because not five seconds after the captain's order, she was standing on the deck beside him.  
  
"Take the girl inside and get her some proper clothes," he said.  
  
_"Georgina,"_ Georgina retorted, but he hardly seemed to care. She hated being called "the girl." It was so careless and rude.  
  
"This way," Stella said, and made her way down the steps to the main deck.  
  
Georgina followed Stella down to one of the lower levels where the crew's sleeping quarters were. Several filthy hammocks were strung up between support posts and empty bottles littered the floor. They were no doubt once filled with rum or ale. Stella led her to a door at the back of the large hold.  
  
"Demanded my own room when I first came aboard," she explained as she stepped inside. "Figured the captain owed me as much." She rummaged through a chest at the foot of her tiny cot.  
  
"Owed you?" Georgina asked.  
  
"Saved his life," Stella replied. "Just go on pretending you don't know that. He's annoyingly proud. Here we are." She pulled an old shirt and a pair of brown pants from the chest, along with a worn-out vest, and held them out to Georgina. "They're probably too big. I only had the dress I was wearing, like you. These are all men's clothes. But they'll do for now."  
  
"Why do I need different clothes?" Georgina asked, eyeing the set in Stella's hand.  
  
"Captain's orders."  
  
Reluctantly, Georgina took the clothes. They smelled musty from being stored away for so long, but they seemed clean enough. Stella left her alone in the little room so she could change. The shirt was scratchy in a few spots and the pants were far too loose. Georgina would have favored a constricting corset over this. At least that way her skin wouldn't be left with an awful rash.  
  
"Well?" Stella called through the door.  
  
"The trousers won't stay up," Georgina replied.  
  
"There's a belt in that chest somewhere."  
  
Georgina held up the pants with one hand as she dug through the chest with the other. There was a good collection of shirts, but not much else. An old grey rag full of holes lay at the bottom. It looked like it was once a white, lacy dress. She wondered how long Stella had been sailing with this crew. Had she stayed by choice? Or was she still a prisoner who'd gotten used to her cage?  
  
Georgina's fingers grazed something hard wrapped up in one of the shirts. She unraveled it and out fell a dagger in a sheath. The handle was beautifully carved with delicate figures of ivory and the sheath was made of some of the finest leather she'd ever touched. It looked just like the one her father had made specially for Jonathan. Carefully, she pulled the blade out, forgetting all about her loose trousers. Instead of a shiny silver, the dagger was a dull, scratched grey and caked with dry blood.  
  
"Did you find it?" Stella's sudden voice nearly made Georgina drop the sharp knife. She quickly slid it back in, wrapped it back up, and shoved it into the bottom of the chest.  
  
"Um..." She sifted through the remaining clothes desperately. Finally she found an old, black belt. "Yeah! I found one!" She looped the cracked leather through the belt loops of the pants and secured it to the tightest possible hole, which was still slightly too big. Then she shrugged on the vest, which tied in the front with a single string looped between a few holes. It was definitely something she'd have to get used to, but at least she could breathe.  
  
She stepped out of the room in her new beige and brown get-up, her hair terribly disheveled from pulling the clothes over it. She tried to smooth it down, but the ribbon holding it up had come loose, so she pulled it out completely and let the length of her long locks fall to small of her back. She was so used to being bundled up in tight undergarments that she suddenly felt as though she'd grown in width by at least a foot.  
  
"I hope you don't mind I left my dress in your chest," Georgina said as she rejoined Stella in the hold.  
  
"Not at all," she smiled in return. "It'll be safe there until your return to dry land."  
  
"And when will that be?" Georgina asked, more rhetorically than anything else.  
  
"I don't know," Stella replied. "But you will see your home again eventually."  
  
"Did you?" She couldn't help but ask. Stella only looked at her for a moment, her smile resting on her face, then turned away to go back to the main deck.  
  
"Let's see if we can't put you to work, shall we?"  
  
***  
  
Stella left Georgina in the kitchen with the biggest pile of dirty dishes she'd ever seen. At least it was something she could do. Georgina would rather spend hours scrubbing crusty plates and bowls than being up on deck with the crew. She knew enough about the natures of men to know that she was not in an advantageous position. Not even Stella's presence was enough to comfort her. She decided it was best to keep her head down and do as she was told. If she could put up with this long enough, she'd make it home in one piece.  
  
After an hour of scrubbing, Georgina's hands were as dry and wrinkled as her grandmother's and she had only gotten through the pots and pans. There were still numerous plates and cups and forks and knives, but those would be easier. She wondered if Jonathan had returned home yet. If he'd been worried when she wasn't there and set out to find her. What would he think if he saw her like this? What would he do to the pirate captain?  
  
What would the pirate captain do to him?  
  
Part of her hoped Jonathan was still out at sea, looking forward to seeing Georgina again, but much too busy to visit even for a day. Her father, on the other hand, was probably sick with worry. Georgina tried desperately to bite back the tears that were welling up in her eyes. Her father was alone without her. She was all he had, and without her help in the shop, there was no way he'd be able to handle the workload. Perhaps the neighbor's son would help until they found her. But there most likely wouldn't be much of an effort to find a blacksmith's daughter.  
  
Georgina was glad no one bothered her down in the galley. It was mind-numbing work, but it was safe-as safe as a girl could be on a pirate ship, anyway.  
  
That was until she heard the screaming. Something was happening up on deck. It couldn't be a storm. The waters were much too calm. All she could hear was shouting, and then the clang of metal against metal. It must have been a sword fight. Maybe two of the men had gotten into an argument and it escalated. But there were definitely more than two swords. There was an all-out battle happening.  
  
She rushed to the porthole above one of the tables and peered outside. She could just see the front end of another ship bobbing in and out of view. It looked like a Navy ship.  
  
Georgina suddenly felt desperation spreading through her chest. She had to get on that ship. They would take her home. But how could she possibly get through the mayhem above without being seen?  
  
Frantically, she searched the pile of dishes for the knives. She grabbed a small steak knife and tucked it into her vest, then picked up the large kitchen knife and gripped it tightly in her hand.  
  
The steps leading up to the deck creaked dangerously beneath her feet. Though she knew the din outside would prevent anyone from hearing it, she felt like it was enough to get her caught. She stepped lightly the rest of the way up and stopped at the door on the landing. The yelling had only grown louder, and she was certain she could hear Stella shouting orders at some of the men.  
  
Georgina gripped the doorknob and turned it slowly, then pulled the door open just a crack to take a peek.  
  
It was utter chaos. There had to be at least thirty men across the deck at arms with each other. Some swung swords and daggers, others shot their pistols. Bodies were strewn about and more kept dropping.  
  
The Navy ship was flush with the pirate ship, with several ropes spanning the space between the decks to keep one from drifting away. Rat was busy trying to cut the ropes, but more were being tied by the soldiers. They were stuck together. Perhaps Georgina could climb to the other ship that way. If she could only get the attention of one of the soldiers, maybe they could help her across. But then it occurred to her that she looked like a pirate. Unless Jonathan was there with them, they would never believe her if she told them she was a prisoner. Not when she was dressed just like Stella, who was up one of the masts engaged in hand to hand combat with another man.  
  
But something didn't seem right about that soldier. He didn't fight like a soldier. He sure as hell had no qualms about striking a woman, something a man of the Royal Navy would never do. Georgina squinted to get a clearer image of him. He was wearing the same official blue coat and hat that Jonathan had, but his hair was wild and greasy, his face covered in dirt and unshaven. This was no Navy man. This was another pirate.  
  
Georgina's eyes darted across the deck, resting for only a moment on each blue-coated fighter. None of them were clean. None of them had any sort of technique, something Georgina knew was important in battle. In fact, the only one who seemed to know what he was doing was the pirate captain at the helm. He swung his sword cleanly with one hand while the other rested behind his back. His shoulders were squared and his stance was almost perfect. He took down one opponent after another, not even flinching when the blood spatter hit his face.  
  
Georgina was completely helpless where she stood in the doorway, but she felt an urge to help her captors. After all, if they lost the fight, who would protect her from this other band of mercenaries? They'd obviously killed an entire Navy crew and commandeered their ship. The only upside she could find was that it was definitely not Jonathan's ship, now that she could see it clearly. Hopefully his was close by. But for the time being, Georgina needed to find a way to help. She'd only had a few fencing lessons from her father, but her arms were strong from the work she did in the shop.  
  
Georgina's heart was pounding painfully hard as she took a deep breath and searched for the clearest path to Rat and the ropes. She would help him break the ship free.  
  
She clenched her teeth, fingers wrapped tightly around the handle of the large knife, and made a run for it.  
  
Out in the open, the fight seemed more like a war condensed to the tiny area of the deck. Deafening clangs and shouts echoed all around her. She dodged a long blade, a frighteningly large man, and several bodies that fell from the sails above. She nearly tripped over a dead man on the floor, but jumped clean over most of them. The smell of sweat, blood, and salt threatened to make her gag as she approached the port side of the ship where Rat was trying to fight off an attacker. She was almost there when one of the impostors lunged at her. She was so focused on her destination that, without a second thought, she sliced her blade through the air, hitting something soft, and somehow managed to keep running. Had she just killed a man?  
  
She tried to push the thought out of her mind as she finally made it to the railing where the ropes were tied. Some of them were stretched all the way to the mast and the railings of the stairs to the quarter deck.  
  
She threw herself to the floor and scrambled underneath the expanse of ropes. If she started from the middle, it would be harder for anyone to get to her.  
  
Immediately, she began hacking at the ropes. The first two were so tight that the knife sliced through them like sticks of butter, but the third was thicker and took a little more effort. She gripped it with her free hand as she sawed the knife back and forth so fast she was sure it would spark a fire.  
  
Georgina made her way through most of the ropes successfully. Rat had noticed her and was back to cutting as well.  
  
"What you doing out here, girl?" Rat shouted over the noise.  
  
"What's it look like?" Georgina yelled back.  
  
"Look out!"  
  
Georgina looked up just in time to see Rat's dagger whip past her face and land in the man behind her. She turned to see one of the pirates in blue fall down dead barely a foot away from her.  
  
"Can I have that back?" Rat shouted. Georgina pulled the dagger from the man's forehead, trying not to look at the gash it left behind, and tossed it back to its owner.  
  
_Don't think, just cut,_ she told herself. _Don't think._ If she let herself become fully aware of exactly what was happening, she would surely die of fright.  
  
She looked up again to see Rat slicing effortlessly through the ropes with a sword in one hand and his dagger in the other. It almost seemed like he didn't need any help from her.  
  
She noticed a man approach him from behind.  
  
"Rat, behind you!" she screamed just in time. Rat turned, decapitated his opponent in one swift sweep of his blade, and turned back to the ropes.  
  
Georgina's stomach felt unbearably warm and rotten. The bile rising in her throat burned, but she swallowed it back down. _Not now,_ she thought. _Later. Get through this first._  
  
There were only a few ropes left to detach. Rat had killed the men tying the ships together, so their work was almost done.  
  
"STAY WHERE YOU ARE!!" Georgina heard the captain's voice scream above her. She looked up to see him surrounded. The men had encircled him and he was caught in the middle, turning this way and that in search of an escape. His sword was still raised, threatening to cut through the lot of them.  
  
"You're finished, Leto," one of them sneered. "This ship's mine, now."  
  
Stella was halfway down the mast behind the helm, intent on defending her captain, but he'd ordered her to stay.  
  
To Georgina's surprise, the captain started laughing. "You really think you've won, Hayes?" he taunted. "That's rich."  
  
Georgina was so distracted by the ordeal that she failed to notice Rat crouched down and creeping slowly up the steps to the quarter deck. Stella was making her way quietly down the mast as the blue-coats' attentions were on the captain. It took a moment for Georgina to realize how quiet it had become. She looked around. There was no more fighting. Most of the dead men wore blue coats, while the pirates still standing crept toward where their captain stood.  
  
"Looks to me like you're outnumbered," the one called Hayes chuckled.  
  
"You won't kill me," the captain-Leto-replied. "I'm worth triple alive."  
  
"Indeed you are," Hayes said. "But so am I."  
  
Stella reached the deck and stepped silently toward the circle, her bloody dagger in her hand. She was right behind Hayes, but none of the others seemed to notice. They were preoccupied with gloating about their victory.  
  
Georgina nearly gasped as Stella straightened up and swung her arm over Hayes' shoulder, pressing her blade into his throat. He struggled, but she pressed harder, drawing a tiny bit of blood.  
  
"Move again and I'll kill you," she hissed in his ear. All the other swords had turned to her. "That goes for the rest of you," she added. "Move and your captain's dead."  
  
"Feisty little bitch, aren't you?" Hayes teased.  
  
"Don't test me," she spat.  
  
"What you want, then?" he replied, not a drop of fear in his voice. It was maddening. Georgina only wished she had that sort of strength, and this man was _entertained._ She found herself willing Stella to pull the blade and cut his throat.  
  
"Where's Tomo?" she demanded.  
  
"Don't know what you're talking about, m'lady," Hayes replied. Stella pushed the blade down harder. Hayes hissed against the pain.  
  
"I won't ask again," she said.  
  
"Let's make a deal," Hayes offered. "I'll take you to him. You let me live. We're even."  
  
Stella looked at Leto for his approval. He nodded.  
  
"We'll keep you below decks with your crew," Leto said. "Dunno if you counted, but it's down to six men."  
  
It was hard to tell from Georgina's vantage point, but it looked like Hayes was suddenly looking around the rest of the ship for his men. He hadn't known how many of them had fallen. Georgina smirked. She couldn't help it. Bastard probably deserved it.  
  
Stella and a handful of her fellow crew apprehended the blue-coats and took them down to the main deck and below to the hold. The rest of them started dragging bodies to the sides of the ship and heaving them overboard. Rat came back down to cut the rest of the ropes.  
  
"You alright, lass?" he asked, but Georgina had frozen. In the sudden silence of their surroundings, her situation had finally registered. She dropped her knife to the floor, her fingers aching from the grip. Her eyes were glued to the captain, who'd taken his position at the helm again. He didn't seem to care that he was covered in blood, his shirt torn and soaked in sweat. He was limping, too. His grip on the wheel was loose and Georgina could swear she saw his hands shaking.


End file.
